With Time
by DuckofIndeed
Summary: All wounds heal with time. But only if we allow them to.


Snape wanted so desperately for Lily's life to be spared, regardless of the fate of her husband and son, that he didn't think of the consequences of such a wish. But, Dumbledore did.

And of course, Snape, Dumbledore, Lily, and anything else mentioned in this story are property of the brilliant J. K. Rowling.

* * *

**With Time**

Severus Snape had crawled back to Spinner's End, and the decaying, old house that had been his home since childhood, like one wounded. He had just spoken to Dumbledore, the one he had pleaded with to protect her, just as he had practically begged at the foot of the Dark Lord's robes to spare just that one life, begged and groveled like the pathetic wretch that he was. And as night fell on the first of November, putting a day's span between himself and her fate like the final curtain to a play, he spent until morning bargaining with no one in particular to bring her back, to let him take her place, if need be, anything. _Anything_.

He had promised the Headmaster the very same. He had sworn to give him anything he wished, if only to ensure her safety.

And now Lily Evans, for he couldn't bear to acknowledge the new name bestowed upon her by marriage, was dead.

Dead.

And he would have liked to join her if he could. He had considered it into the wee hours of the morning after it had happened, contemplated the means in which to do it, but then the sun rose, and he was still there. Dumbledore may have talked him out of it, but frankly, he doubted he would have had the courage to go through with it anyway.

Coward. Filthy, bloody coward.

If given the chance, he would have willingly relived a lifetime of misery, if for but one chance to bring her back.

Snape had burst into the Headmaster's office the very next morning without so much as a knock. "The time turner," he began, his words not yet rid of the wavering of yesterday, his mind without the clarity to form full sentences, "I need it. I-I can…"

Dumbledore didn't look over, but continued to hold up some morsel which Fawkes took straight from his very hand, the object crunching in its beak in a manner that made the man observing nauseous to hear. Having a phoenix as a pet. Only the Headmaster would, but what good was a bird that could revive itself, but no one else? He scratched the creature under the chin, and it arched its neck in appreciation, and just when Snape was going to repeat himself, the man spoke.

"You know we can't turn back time beyond five hours, Severus. The Ministry forbids it, and I must admit, I agree with them."

"To hell with the Ministry," Severus said, though his soft voice held no real bite. "It's the only way—"

The Headmaster turned a stern eye on him, while Fawkes ate one final treat from his outstretched hand without one ounce of concern for the conversation forming in front of it. "No, Severus, and there will be no further talk on the matter. Do I make myself clear?"

Snape's breathing had quickened as if he had run all the way from England to here rather than merely apparating, and he raised one hand to the doorframe he had yet to venture beyond to steady himself. "You won't even do this small thing to save someone's life? And you accuse me of—"

Dumbledore's reply was swift. "There would be no need to save _anyone_ if it weren't for your actions, or have you forgotten? Who endangered her and her family by revealing the prophecy to the Dark Lord? I will not be put to blame for something _you_ did, Severus."

Whatever else Snape had to say died on his lips, and he clutched the doorframe all the more securely, as if his very being depended on it. His chest was tight, every breath taking far more effort than it should, and he merely watched as the Headmaster sat down behind his desk with a calm belying his earlier tone.

"There must…there must be another way."

Dumbledore gestured at the chair across from him. "Sit."

"There-there _must_ be."

"Severus," the Headmaster began, and folded his hands before him, "let me explain something to you. If we _were_ to imagine that you could travel back in time to the night when it happened and prevent her death, what do you think it would accomplish?"

Snape opened his mouth to speak, but was halted from doing so when the other man continued. "I know how you felt about her, but I regret to inform you, even if it weren't for the petty, teenage argument that ended your friendship, I highly doubt she'd have any…warm feelings to spare for one who was so recently a Death Eater."

"That's not…that's not my reasoning."

"And furthermore," the Headmaster added, and Snape winced, "do you honestly think she'd be _grateful_ to you for saving her?"

The younger man swallowed and took to leaning his full weight against the doorframe beside him when just his hand was no longer enough. "H-how do you mean?"

"What I mean, Severus, is her husband was killed, murdered, and if she hadn't sacrificed herself for her infant son, he would have suffered the same fate. Unless you intended to save _all_ of them…" he paused, and when he received no response in the affirmative, went on, "Do you think she'd wish to live if her husband and son were dead? Think of how you feel now. Would you wish that on her?"

Snape shook his head with a single, stiff jerk, his answer simply a choked, "Never."

Dumbledore studied him with an expression that not even the sharpest of eyes could read before sighing, and he bowed his head, appearing to inspect the surface of the desk with his eyes nearly closed. "Severus, I would love nothing more than to change what happened. I, on the other hand, would have made it my goal to save all _three_ of them, but that is beside the point." He tapped his bearded chin with the thumbs of his clasped hands. "What happened was tragic, but the fact that the boy survived, and the Dark Lord was defeated, if only temporarily, was a miracle, and one I do not wish to tamper with."

By now, Snape had found the strength to draw further into the room, though he continued to keep his distance to just beyond the chair he had earlier been offered. "I refuse to believe any part of that was a miracle," he said, and after a moment's hesitation, he clutched the back of the chair until he could pull himself to a position where he could slide into it as if from the same unexplained exhaustion as earlier.

Dumbledore's bespectacled gaze turned on him again, his head bobbing with a barely perceptible nod. "That is up to you, I suppose."

When no more was said, the older man's attention dropped to a scroll of parchment set aside for later scrutiny, and he slid it closer with one hand while the other stretched out to grab a quill pen it seemed to have chosen to seek out through a will entirely its own. Snape watched as the Headmaster took up from where he had apparently, at some uncertain time in the past, left off, the only sound the scratching of the quill and a ruffling of feathers as Fawkes stretched its wings.

"So…you won't do it, then?"

"No, Severus."

"Then…" Snape's voice quivered, and he licked his lips, "what am I to do?"

Only now did the Headmaster look up, the pen held at the ready, and when he spoke, his voice was soft, but it filled the room, as only Dumbledore's voice could. "What you need is time, but not for going back, but forward. It _will_ get easier, I assure you."

Snape drew in a labored breath. "I-it won't. What…what would that say about me if it did?"

But, Dumbledore didn't say a word in answer, and the younger man continued, "I don't _want_ it to get any easier."

"Severus…"

"What if I _never_ get over it? What if I _don't_?"

"Then, I'm afraid you're going to have a long and unhappy life. And I wouldn't wish that on anyone."

Snape rose to his feet as Dumbledore returned to his work, and he left the room and proceeded down the spiraling stairs and the hallways beyond with the look of one who had given up bargaining, his mouth twisted into a grimace he was certain would become inseparable from him if he did nothing to stop it.

What if I don't?

* * *

This story just came about one day when I was contemplating what would have happened if Lily _had_ somehow been spared, and while this story clearly didn't take the route one would expect from such a musing, I didn't really want to write a scenario where she _did_ survive, as she would be devastated by the loss of her family and would have likely hated Snape forever for what he had caused to happen. And that just makes me sad.

Anyway, I really enjoyed writing this story. I like seeing the emotional side of Snape; it's so different from his normally cold exterior. And I found that Dumbledore is far easier to write for than I expected.

Please review, dear readers!


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